Of Silks and Ribbons
by ADragons-LionHeart
Summary: For them, love meant to forget their past.
1. Remember

_She remembers the summer carousel. _

_So many colors._

_So many smells._

_So many people._

_She remembers clutching her mother's arm so tightly, scared of the crowd._

_She remembers seeing tall people, short people, happy people, sad people._

_She thinks that she was happy._

_She remembers the sweet, grainy, melt-in-your-mouth taste of the pink cotton candy._

_The memories go by faster and faster. Remembering her favorite horse on the carousel, the dark brown one with a blue saddle. Remember, remember, remember. _

_..._

_He remembers the winter._

_There was so much snow._

_Big snowflakes, little ones too._

_He remembers being wrestled into warm, itchy clothes. Red scarf. Green hat. Black robes._

_He remembers his snowman. Carrot nose. Pebble eyes and a pebble mouth._

_He remembers his mother whispering, "Quickly, quietly," as they both tried to dry off without Father knowing._

_He remembers the tears in his eyes as he watches his father hit his mother for his disobedience._

_So many memories. Remember, remember, remember._


	2. The Fragility of the Human Heart

**SMALL, SLIGHTLY DESCRIPTIVE SMUT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER! I HAVE WARNED YOU! **

Hermione walked quickly along the sidewalk, determined to get back to her flat as quickly as possible. Not even the windy and rainy February air could dampen her mood.

Ron had promised to bring her out to dinner tonight, at 7. Checking her watch quickly, Hermione's eyes nearly bulged out of her sockets. It was 4:45!

She still had to work on her essay on the history of the Treatment of Non-Human Magical Creatures, and finish a rough draft by 6. Then, she could worry about getting ready, or 'looking sexy', as Ginny often stated. The essay she was working on now could be the thing that caused a whole set of laws to be created on the rights of these poor creatures!

Fishing her key out of her purse, she towards the door of her flat. Ron usually wasn't home before 6:30, so Hermione knew she had time to work without worrying about being distracted.. Slipping the key into the lock, she pushed against the door, surprised when she found it was already unlocked.

"Ron?" Hermione looked around.

She put her purse on the windowsill, and removed her wand from her coat. Looking around, she realized that Ron had to be home.

Ron's jacket was lying on the floor, where he shrugged it off everyday. She saw a plate with crumbs on it on the kitchen counter, and the cookie jar lid lying astray. Sighing happily, she walked over and replaced the lid, and as she was about to turn on the tap to wash the plate when she heard a very loud grunt and a muted scream.

Hermione froze. What was that? What was Ron doing? Had he hurt himself? She picked up her wand and quickly ran into the small hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom.

She heard another small scream, and it seemed to be coming from the bathroom. Had Ron cut himself shaving again? But why would he scream? Ron was more of the type to swear to the heavens until the pain receded.

She quietly opened the bathroom door, and nearly threw up.

Ron. Ron. Ron was fucking _Lavender, _that _bitch. _Why would he- why-why-why? Ron loved _Hermione_, he said so many times, so why was he with Lavender? Why Lavender? She watched as Lavender grabbed Ron's hair, moaning, while Ron gave low grunts in between pounding into her.

They both hadn't noticed Hermione yet, they were so caught up in their...passion.

She quietly closed the door, in a state of shock. She could only hear a loud buzzing noise as she slipped her coat back on. Clutching her wand and her purse tightly, Hermione silently closed the door behind her, and that's when she lost control.

And she ran.

She ran as fast as she could, her jacket flying behind her. The scene from the bathroom was running through her head, she had to outrun it. She ran past random strangers on the street, not apologizing when she bumped into the occasional Muggle. She ran until she got to her favorite place on Earth.

Hyde Park.

Hermione collapsed onto a bench. She wiped her face, expecting there to be tears, and was surprised when her hand was dry.

She squinted her eyes tightly, trying to get the image of Ron pounding away into eager Lavender out of her head.

Her thoughts felt disconnected, not like her normal self. Hermione was always clear, concise. And now she didn't know what she was.

After what felt like days later, Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was 6 o'clock. She must of slept a little.

Hermione then decided that she would go back to her flat, and see if Ron would say anything about Lavender. And then she'd kick him out of her flat. After all, she was paying the rent.

Screw the essay.

...

Opening the door quietly, Hermione noticed that now it was locked. Maybe Ron had locked it after Lavender had left.

As soon as she stepped into the flat, she was enveloped by a warm body. Resisting the urge to fling Ron away, she met his lips for a brief kiss. As much as she wanted to kick him out _right now, _Hermione wanted to ask some questions and see if Ron would lie to her.

"Ron! You're home early!" Hermione put as much enthusiasm as she could into the statement, hoping Ron wouldn't notice the effort she was putting into not tearing his head off.

"Not really. I only just got home." Ron said quickly, the tips of his ears red.

_Liar, liar, pants on fire, _Hermione's mind chanted. She was a little shocked that he had outright lied to her.

"Um, Ron, I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it for the dinner tonight."

Ron shrugged. "Actually, that sort of works out, because I have a business meeting with Lavender."

"Who's Lavender?" _Jerk. Jerk. Jerk._

Ron swallowed. "Oh, I never told you? She's my...secretary."

"Oh."

Ron walked over to the kitchen counter and snagged a banana from the fruit bowl. Before he could peel it, though, Hermione spoke.

"Ronald Weasley, get out of my flat."

Ron froze, and turned around slowly. "Mione? What are you-"

"Don't call me _that_!" Hermione felt as if electricity was crackling from her hair. How dare Ronald act as if nothing were going on?

"I don't understa-"

"Well, then I'll help you understand. _I watched you fuck bloody Lavender!_ I'm not a bloody idiot! I said, get out!"

Ronald quickly grabbed his jacket and walked towards the door. "Hermione, please, I don't-"

"Get out!" Hermione grabbed a vase close to her, and Ron, knowing what would happen, closed the door.

Hermione dropped the vase and slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor, not registering the tinkling of glass breaking. All she knew was that for the first time today, she cried.


	3. Blood Red

"Shit. Shit!"

Draco Malfoy was _not_ having a good day.

"Crap. Oh shit."

Looking down at his bloody hand, he groaned in frustration, his clean hand searching for his wand. Muttering a quick spell, he watched the cut disappeared quickly. Flexing his hand, Draco winced when he felt that it was sore.

His mother, Narcissa, had asked him to sort out the family documents in one of the Manor's many dungeons. She was unsure whether or not Lucius, Draco's father, had cancelled his Gringott's account before he died, the bastard.

If Lucius had...well, then Draco and his mother would be fucked. Screwed into the next dimension.

So here Draco was, sitting in a dusty corner in a stone room, searching through the piles and piles of parchment papers for anything related to Lucius' money. Though the papers were centuries old, magic had preserved them very well He looked down at his feet, where a bloody piece of paper was on the floor. Draco bent down, and crumpled it into a tiny ball.

"That's for the paper-cut." he whispered, feeling a little silly as he righted himself.

Sighing, he picked up the crumpled ball, opened it, his eyes wide as he skimmed through.

Stuffing the paper in his pocket, Draco bounded up the steps, yelling "Mother!" occasionally on his way up.

As he reached the top step, his mother met him, with a worried expression.

"What is it, Draco? Any good news?"

Draco had never seen his mother like this, so scared. He said quickly, "Well, I'm not sure. See, here..."

He stood next to his mother, pointing at a specific part of the crumpled paper. "Look, mother. Here it says that the Malfoy family vault cannot be closed on any circumstances." His mother gave a sigh of relief. Draco grimaced. "But it also says that the magic of the vault has to be renewed somehow. See, look here..._the magicke must be renewed before the dawn of the date, May the second, of the year two thousand and one. If the magicke is not renewed by the Malfoye heir...precious fortune of the Malfoye family...vault shall be destroyed...forever._ Mum, what does it mean, 'renew the magicke'?"

His mother looked as if she were to faint. "Draco, this is worse than I imagined. Lucius has left us in deep peril."

"What?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, dear. See, Draco, Lucius knew he didn't need to close the vault, because this document says that it will anyway. Unless..." Her voice trailed off.

Draco uncrossed his arms, fidgeting. "Unless _what?_"

Narcissa swallowed. "Draco, you know that Veela blood runs the Malfoy blood, correct?"

Draco nodded, unsure of where this was going.

"Well, the Veela blood is both a curse and a blessing. The Malfoys are special in that we can choose whether or not to be a Veela."

Draco sighed. "Mother, I already know this."

His mother continued. "The curse is that if a Malfoy were to become a Veela, the process would be much more difficult, more painful, than for a regular or half-blood Veela. I have a feeling, that in order for the Malfoy fortune to stay intact..._you, _Draco, must embrace your inner Veela."


End file.
